


Dissolving Problems in Alcohol

by ThymeSprite



Series: Nagging the Avengers [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcoholic Tony Stark, Computer Programming, F/M, Internal Conflict, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Tomboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymeSprite/pseuds/ThymeSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair Elliott was okay with who she was, even though she sometimes did not like herself.<br/>What she was not okay with is how she is treated by others, especially one Mister Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissolving Problems in Alcohol

“And then, you won’t believe it…!”, Jenna giggled in her conversation with Beverly, crossing her legs in a fashion she probably thought was totally Basic Instinct, but Blair found it utterly pathetic. Okay so Jenna’s legs were tanned, slender and always ended in stilettos, yes even in the lab, but… Blair really could not deal with their absolutely girlish gossip. It was almost always gossip and hardly ever work.

“What did he do?”, Beverly eagerly demanded and giggled in the same high pitch that gave Blair a headache simply thinking about the fact that a female human body was able to produce such sounds. She herself certainly was not.

“He…”, Jenna drawled and leaned in conspiratorially, “Took me out to dinner.”

“Oh my God!”, Beverly cried and Blair flinched so fiercely she dropped her pocket knife.

“Hey, you klutz.”, Jenna hissed at her, but Blair merely rolled her eyes, both at the words and the way in which Jenna then threw her flowing blonde mane over her shoulders… bare shoulders, in the lab as the lab coat was suspiciously absent. Then Blair just shrugged, picked up her knife and continued working on the spectrometer those two geniuses had apparently broken.

No wonder there, with finger nails three inches long, absolutely no one was able to operate anything. She really wondered how the two of them had gotten into their matching short miniskirts this morning.

And she wondered why on Earth she was doing this repair at all. They had staff for that, she was the programmer, not the repair man, not anymore. She was the one working with Vision to determine how much of him was machine and how much human or living. She was the one to program the new AI for the facility. Or rather do the draft and having it chucked back by Mr. Stark with the demand for changes he never really specified. He just was not “happy” with the design and left the changes he wanted for her to guess. It was hard work, demanding work, but it was highly sophisticated work not many people were qualified for. She was.

So there was no reason for Blair to be working on the spectrometer, yet she had been at it for over an hour now and had not yet found the bug. In the meantime, Jenna and Beverly had discussed last night in all detail and as much as Blair was trying to block it out, she just could not do it, the two of them were standing too close and their high-pitched voices would have probably cut right through earplugs like a diamond drill anyway.

So she was forced to listen: “It was this super-fancy restaurant in the Village where you usually wait six months to get a table, but he just went in and they greeted him by his name!”

“Oh wow…”, Blair mumbled under her breath as she removed yet another capping to look under it, “A fancy restaurant and the concierge knows Tony Stark by name…just like anyone else on the Goddamn planet.”

But the two lab-techs did not hear her, instead Beverly shrieked her disbelief before Jenna continued: “We ate the seafood. I mean, I hate seafood, but it was the most expensive meal on their menu.”

Blair tried really, really hard not to let her anger and disbelief show. Who on Earth would order something they did not like, in a restaurant that was much too uptight anyway, just so they could impress someone they did not mean a thing to? She could not wrap her head around it. So what if you liked potatoes and bacon? If you like it, eat it, if you don’t, then don’t, that was her philosophy. But, alas, she had never mastered even the beginner’s course of social graces. Flunked it, totally.

Beverly however was absolutely engrossed by her colleague’s report of her night out and asked: “And then, what happened?”

“We rode in the limousine, the really big, white one, you know. We had champagne in the back.”, Jenna mumbled and Blair smirked to herself. She knew for a fact that Mr. Stark had at least three white, big limousines as she had worked on them all. She had started as a mere repair girl, but had worked her way up to where she was now, head programmer. Those two, however, she doubted had so much as lifted a finger in their entire employment.

“And then?”, Beverly asked, sounding to Blair’s ears like a girl from a cliché teenage movie, but Jenna was worse, “What do you think? We went upstairs got to his bedroom and…”

Blair clenched her teeth and was just one second short of beginning to pray when she finally spotted the problem with the spectrometer: “Ha!”

The volume of and relief in her voice had actually startled herself, but even more so the two women behind her as they both now glared at her, but Blair pointed her thumb at the equipment and informed them: “I found the problem.”

“Oh, great.”, Jenna said without too much enthusiasm, “What are you waiting for? Fix it, tomboy.”

Blair hardly heard that word anymore, it was an insult coming from Jenna, but she had gotten used to it.

With tweezers she gently removed the offending object and neutrally said: “This blocked the laser beam, so it did no longer reach the sample and…”

“Hey, that’s mine!”, Jenna hissed in accusation and snatched away the fake fingernail, bright red and adorned with glittering crystals, with a glare in her eyes as if Blair had put it there on purpose just to hide it from her. As if.

She refrained from telling Jenna that she had to have realised that the nail had fallen into the machine, for she knew it would not do much good. None, honestly.

“So it works again?”, Beverly then harshly asked and Blair nodded, “I see nothing wrong with it anymore. I’ll just have to screw it all together again and you’re good to go again.”

“Well, don’t fuss around, do it.”, Jenna told her and Blair sighed, then shrugged and got to work. She had tried for a few weeks to change their attitude, to fight against this. But to no avail, so she had stopped fighting and tried to avoid them both instead. Sadly, it hardly ever worked, the two of them had a way of finding her. But they also had a way of ignoring her, for they only moved away a couple of steps before they resumed their chit-chat and Jenna started it off with: “Can you believe that? She touched my nail.”

She had not, but alright.

“I know…”, Beverly said, disgusted, “I mean what is she even? She looks like a boy, dresses like a boy. She even has a boy’s name.”

“Yeah, lame.”, Jenna agreed and Blair just rolled her eyes. She had honestly hoped that a working environment would be different from high school. Boy, had she been wrong.

With a different boss, maybe she could have gotten herself heard, but with things as they were…

“Good day, ladies!”, his loud voice rang through the lab and Blair muttered cynically, “Speak of the devil.”

“Hello, Tony.”, they both spoke sickeningly sweetly and Blair had to grin as it made her think of Charlie’s Angel whenever they had said “Yes, Charlie!”. A quick glance at her wristwatch told Blair that it was way past noon, so if Mr. Stark had decided to come in this late and was still under the effects from last night’s alcohol, then Blair knew that she was in for a lovely afternoon with a lot of gossip, no work and stupid innuendos that even fourteen-year-old boys at the height of puberty could not find funny anymore. And Vision, her only hope, was out on a mission with Wanda. Dammit.

“Lookit here, ladies, I brought coffee.”, Tony spoke and against better knowledge, Blair allowed herself to turn around and look at him… just to learn that she had been right. He had three takeaway cups with him, two on a tray and one he was sipping from. No coffee for her, again. It really was as if she was not even there.

She finished closing the spectrometer up properly again, but stood in front of it, trying to figure out just how that blasted fingernail had made its way to the light source. Jenna was cold-blooded, but not cunning enough to have planted it there… Plus, with nails on like the one she had found, Jenna would not have been physically able to plant that thing where it had been…

“So, how about tonight…?”, Beverly asked and Blair closed her eyes, trying to ignore Tony’s answer when he surprised her, “Sorry, can’t.”

Blair was of half a mind to turn around, but she instead packed up her tools and was stashing them in the pockets of her cargo pants when she heard the addition that set the record straight again: “Unless…you two ladies have already finished the work and have some data for me.”

“Of course!”, they both cheered and Blair found herself gagging. As Jenna and Beverly ran off to get the data, clickety-clacking over the lab’s floor in high heels so high they made Blair question gravity, she made her way over to Tony and addressed him: “Morning. The spectrometer works again, Vision is out, but I am still going through yesterday’s data of him.”

“Yeah, okay.”, he said absent-mindedly, “Anything new?”

He did not even look at her, but was instead staring at Jenna’s backside as she was bent over, rummaging through the lowest drawer in her desk. Of course, where else to put important data then the least efficient spot?

For a moment Blair toyed with the thought of speaking nonsense, seeing whether Tony was really not listening, but instead she stuck to the truth: “Nothing definitive so far, unfortunately. But he seems to be far closer to a human mind than I initia…”

“Let me see those goods.”, Tony waved at Jenna and Beverly when they came closer with the data pads and Blair sighed, but then merely turned away and with a shrug returned to her work. He had not even asked what had been wrong with the spectrometer, nothing. So she typed a report instead of telling him, but she was totally sure that he would never read them, maybe Miss Potts would or Agent Hill, but surely not Tony himself. Still, she was determined to write them to the best of her ability, but it was an unbelievably difficult task with the constant flirting in the room.

She had the odd feeling that she would soon be able to snatch the hormones out of the room’s air. She had known that Mr. Stark had been a ladies’ man, but she had honestly hoped that the relationship with Miss Potts had led him to a monogamous path.

And why on Earth was Miss Potts alright with him sleeping around like that? And if she did not know…she had to be blind or she did not want to know.

Shaking her head, Blair reminded herself that it was none of her concern and as soon as she had finished the reports, she gathered up her stuff and made her way to her bunk. She had had enough of the two lab-techs and of Mr. Stark for the day after listening to their relentless flirting for more than three hours in a row, she just wanted quiet and solitude. But, as soon as she was in her little room, she knew that quiet and solitude were probably the last things she truly wanted.

As soon as the door had closed with a soft clicking sound behind her, the old thoughts began to haunt her again. Was she ugly? Dumb, too fat?

Blair knew that she should not do that, but she went over to her mirror anyway and looked critically at her reflection.

“A little more sun next summer, huh?”, she mumbled as she saw the pale complexion with just a few scattered freckles on her nose. Combing her hands through her hair, she found herself unhappy with the brown pixie cut and her rough hands. The short hair was practical, her hands rough from manual work and tinkering in her spare time, but they were not…girlish. Her chest was flat, her hips round, but she was by no means fat. Her clothes were size M, sometimes L if she wanted them to be really comfy.

Alright, so the leather boots were no pumps, but they had steel caps and had saved her toes from a few dropped machine parts. Returning her gaze to her face, she wondered once again whether make-up would change anything. But then she remembered the one day she had worn so much as a little eyeliner… and the stupid comments she had earned for that. No, thanks, she did not need that again.

Having utterly depressed herself, Blair was at least grateful that she had gotten rid of her scale a few months back, so at least that problem was out of her life. Looking into the mirror once again, she remembered Jenna’s girlish giggling and attempted to imitate her.

“Ugh!”, she then gasped, horrified at how she had looked doing that, how terrible it had sounded and not to mention how utterly wrong it had felt.

No, she was a tomboy and that was okay. She just wished it was not as lonely as it was for her.

With a sigh, Blair settled for a movie for the rest of the day and, because it did not matter much anyway, she also opened a bag of popcorn to go with it. Maybe she should not eat it, a tiny, malevolent voice in the back of her head said, but Blair argued that the “Die Hard”-movies were better with popcorn and just when she popped the DVD in, she thought that it was not an incredibly girly film to watch.

“So what.”, Blair then cursed and got comfy on her couch, fully enjoying every explosion in the movie. And then the second and the third movie of the series.

Thus having spent the evening in a way she had enjoyed, even if alone, Blair went to bed with a smile, but it soon fell from her face again. Grumbling to herself, she admitted that she was sad and disappointed in herself, even though she liked who and what she was. But the two girls down in the lab had made her miserable, had given her doubts Blair had hoped she had long since put behind her. Apparently not.

And not only did that dampen her spirits drastically, no, she was mostly upset because it bothered her at all. She knew that the night would not be a pleasant one and true enough, sleep took its sweet time before it finally decided to give her some rest.

Some, because her sleep was filled with the strangest of dreams, seeing herself as a “girly” girl and seeming happy, but at the same time she had been appalled at what she had seen. When she woke in the morning, that dream still lingered and it took Blair a long moment to understand that she was awake at all.

“Weird.”, she then mumbled to herself, just to fill the silence. Glancing at her alarm clock, Blair shut it off as she was an entire hour too early, but another attempt at sleep would be fruitless, that much was clear to her. So she got up and turned on some good old Rock’n’Roll to wake up while getting dressed.

Angling for her cargo pants she had dropped where she had stood last night, she frowned. They really were not girly at all. With a glance at her closet, Blair thought that she really, absolutely ought not to do that… but then she went over anyway and rummaged through her clothes until she found the one good pair of jeans she had. By “good” she meant “not baggy” and, lo and behold, they were even decorated with some almost faded rhinestones here and there.

Once again she debated with herself whether she should do this, but then slipped the pants on anyway. They were comfortable enough, as she did not own anything that was truly uncomfortable, but they definitely felt different from her usual cargo pants. They were… less baggy, less roomy. That meant she would have to use a bag for all her clutter, how inconvenient, but oh well, she thought the sight of her backside made up for that. She then got a shirt form her closet, not black for once, and she stepped into her nicer boots. They were still boots, but they looked a bit more presentable than the worn out other pair she loved so much.

Equipped like that, Blair made her way to the kitchen to get some breakfast, but once there that little, malevolent voice was in her head again. Should she really eat if she had well enough fat reserves?

Her stomach rumbled in protest and so she settled for an apple for breakfast, smouldering inwardly that she had been thrown onto that self-destructive train of thought just by the stupid chit-chat of the two morons in the lab – and Mr. Stark. It did not help either that the rest of the male population ignored her just as much.

“Stop that.”, she mumbled to herself and got to work, sifting through the data and going over it once again before Vision was due for a visit today. She was almost ready when he entered the lab a bit early and greeted her with his calm voice: “Good morning, Miss Elliot.”

“Morning, Vision.”, she wished him and smiled at him, but the smile froze when she saw that he had a plate of pop tarts with him.

“Are you alright?”, he asked her and, following her gaze, he then added, “I thought the flavour called S’mores was your favourite. Am I mistaken?”

“No…”, she slowly sighed and then took the plate from him, “Thank you.”

“Gladly.”, he nodded and took a seat next to her, “I still do not think they are as healthy as the package says, but you and Thor seem to enjoy them very much.”

At this Blair chuckled and nodded: “And Loki thought his brother was an oaf. He’s the only sane one when it comes to pop tarts.”

“Thor eats half a dozen packages if he is not stopped.”, Vision told her, slightly shocked as she judged from his voice, but she replied with a grin, “Told ya, only sane one. Who’d ever stop such a glorious feast?”

With that, Blair took the first pastry and ate it with pleasure. They sure were good. So what if she did not have the silhouette of a super model? She would never be one anyway… and she did not want to, either.

“Okay, Vision, we stopped last time at the recognition of emotion in body language. Okay for you if we pick up there again and move on to facial expressions from there?”, Blair asked and he nodded, “Absolutely, Miss Elliot.”

So Blair opened the folder of pictures and gifs she had compiled for that purpose and together they went through some of them together. He was remarkably good with some expressions, anger for example, but he had a harder time with the soft expressions of affection, especially the nuances. He could not distinguish friendship from romantic feelings and at one point he even frowned and asked in exasperation: “How can a hug be a hug, a kiss be a kiss and still mean something wholly different?”

“Context.”, Blair offered, “You do understand sarcasm, right?”

“No, I am utterly clueless.”, Vision dead-panned, but then smiled at her as she acknowledged the sarcasm with a grin.

“So… sarcasm can only be understood with knowledge of context. I know that you understand sarcasm as I have seen you use it in conversations before. Had I not known that, I may have believed you when you had just said that you were clueless. You with me so far?”

“I am.”, Vision confirmed, “But I do not yet understand what this has to do with body language and facial expressions.”

“Context.”, Blair told him again, “Those two are friends, because they only hug for a short time and smile at each other, but otherwise are standing close, but not personally close. In the next gif, those are lovers. They hug for a long time, both smiling and obviously content so close to each other. It just… wouldn’t do to hug a friend like that just to greet them.”

“So… the pair in this next gif is also a couple in love?”, Vision asked and Blair grimaced, “Sorry, no.”

“Why not?”, Vision asked, “What context have I missed?”

“The girl is sniffling, about to cry.”, Blair explained ,”He is her friend and comforts her. Okay, so far they could also be lovers, however, the places he keeps his hands at indicate they are merely friends. See? Only at her shoulders and her upper arms. If they were lovers, he’d probably touch her hips, hold her hands.”

Vision nodded slowly and then mumbled: “Context.”

“Exactly.”, Blair grinned at him, but then she heard the door to the lab being opened. One glance told her who it was and she sighed silently, pouting as she knew that the annoying chatter would start once again now that Jenna and Beverly had made their way to the lab. An hour late, as per usual. And they had never so much as heard a reprimand for it.

“You are… upset.”, Vision observed and Blair scoffed, “You never have a hard time with that one.”

“No.”, he replied, “But your feelings are very hard to miss now that I have gotten to know you better. You… what is the expression? You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Really?”, she muttered, but then shrugged, “No matter. The two of them will keep gossiping, so we’ll hardly be able to work. But thanks for coming in so early.”

“I was awake.”, Vision told her and got up to leave her, but then took the plate that had held pop tarts and was now filled with only crumbs and asked her, “Should I get you another snack?”

“Thanks, but no.”, she declined and waved good-bye, hoping against hope that she would be able to summarise the findings of today in a report more or less without disturbance. But she just had to hear the two of them gossiping and so she learned that last night, Mr. Stark had been out with Beverly and the two of them had made it all the way. Wonderful, now Jenna and Beverly were both members of a very large club of women who had slept with Tony Stark, but never meant as much to him as the suit they had peeled off him for that… or maybe even less, just as much one of his socks, maybe. And the worst thing about it was that they were both proud of their achievement.

At some point the two of them decided to do at least a little work, but that only meant that they were no longer whispering loudly, but instead shouting their gossip through the lab. Delightful.

Giving up the vain hope to find some concentration in this mess, Blair got up to stretch her legs a bit and decided to get a snack from the kitchen. Maybe another apple or a pear. She made her way over there, grateful for the opportunity to get away from the two girls and in the kitchen she looked around for some sort of lunch to hunt down.

She then decided on toast with peanut butter and jelly and of course, some idiot had emptied the peanut butter, but placed it back in the cupboard anyway. Her money was on the Falcon, but she had no proof. So with a sigh she opened the low cupboard to get a fresh jar. Crouching down - or rather trying to – Blair suddenly remembered why she loved cargo pants so much. They were roomy enough to let you crouch down, but those jeans really were not. They were comfy enough while standing or seated, but otherwise you could not really move in them.

So instead of crouching, she had to bend down, proudly presenting her backside to the world even though she hated that. But she had no choice if she wanted the peanut butter…

“Dayum!”, someone said behind her and she spun around, hitting her head as she did so, only to find herself face to face with none other than Tony Stark, one hand wrapped around a glass of fragrant whiskey, the other raised and flat… as if to spank her.

“I…oh.”, Mr. Stark mumbled, “I…didn’t know that was you.”

“And why exactly does that make it any better?”, Blair muttered before she could stop herself, but he did not even grace that with any answer, he just stared at her, then downed the full glass of whiskey in one go, bottoms up. It was noon and that had not looked like his first glass.

Only then did Blair see the glassiness of his eyes and the swerving steps he took away from her.

“Are you…alright?”, she found herself asking and he just waved it off, but she was concerned.

“Ridiculous…”, she mumbled to herself and made her sandwich. But the concern kept gnawing at her conscience and so, once back at her computer, she sent an email to Ms. Potts stating that she thought someone should check in with Mr. Stark to make sure he was alright. She did not receive an answer during the rest of the day, but she thought little of it as Ms. Potts would hardly reply to such a request. Why should she? But Blair’s concern stayed with her and the constant gossip flowing over to her from the two lab-techs was a terrible wear on her nerves, so she had a headache once they had finally left.

However, Blair had not really managed to get any work done, so she decided to do it now in the peace and quiet of the workshop. It took her only three hours, now that she had finally been able to work efficiently.

Shutting down her PC with a satisfied smile, Blair turned around to leave and go to bed, realising how tired she actually was, when the door to the workshop opened again. Stumbling and crashing into tables, knocking over chairs, someone entered the lab and Blair winced when she smelled the aura of alcohol the person had brought with them. Whoever that was, he was severely intoxicated.

“Damn it, stupid chair, stupid legs…”, he cursed and with a grimace, Blair realised it was Mr. Stark.

Oh boy…this could only go wrong.

Blair’s heart was pounding for she had always found drunken people kind of unsettling. You never knew what they would do in the next moment, they were absolutely unpredictable to her. She seriously debated with herself whether she should just hide in the back of the lab and wait for Mr. Stark to go and find another place to haunt.

“Anyone there?”, he asked and now Blair grimaced. She knew she should make herself known, but she did not really want to. Then, with a sigh, she decided to behave like a reasonable, grown-up person and stepped out of the shadows, quietly saying: “I’m here.”

“Oh…”, was all he said and then he just flopped down on a chair, spilling some of the whiskey in the glass he was holding.

“Stupid glass…”, he then muttered and set it on the table, but withdrawing his hand, he swiped it off the edge and it shattered on the floor.

“Really stupid glass.”, was all he said, then he simply drank from the bottle. Mr. Stark made no effort to collect the shards of broken glass, he was probably much too drunk to care even a rat’s tail for it. So, grumbling to herself, Blair went and got the dustpan to sweep up the shards without a comment. It should not bother her anymore, but she seemed to be everybody’s go-to-idiot in the lab. But it still did bother her, a lot, to be precise, especially since it was absolutely not comfortable to crouch down in those jeans and she really, absolutely did not want to show Mr. Stark her behind again. Drunk as he was, he probably would spank her.

Dumping the shards in the bin, she put away the dustpan, and then brushed right past Mr. Stark, towards the exit.

“Yeah, sure, just run away!”, he grumbled and Blair winced, her anxiety from before returning with a force that made her gasp.

“What are you staring at?!”, Mr. Stark yelled at her and she flinched, but then sternly told him, “I do not have to listen to this. I am leaving.”

“Yeah, go…”, he muttered and just when Blair was about to open the door, she heard him add in a muffled whisper, “Leave me, just like everybody else has.”

She should not… she knew it, she should not turn around, not ask him what he had meant by that.

But there had been something about his voice, about how he had said those words that had sounded…raw, genuine. Hurt and terribly afraid.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Blair thought that she really should not do this, then grinned as it seemed to be today’s motto and she turned around, eventually. Mr. Stark was sitting there, his head hung low and from time to time he sipped from the bottle. It was almost empty.

Blair slowly walked up to him and she saw the surprise in his dark eyes as he looked up at her. His eyes were hooded, but now she saw that it was not only inebriation, but also pain, the wish to hide. Well, he did a terrible job at hiding, but she guessed that he would hardly be able to hide anyway. He was Tony Stark, he was Iron Man. Everybody knew who he was, there was almost no place left to hide.

And with a suddenness that almost frightened her, sympathy overcame Blair. Something in his life had to be going terribly wrong and drinking and flirting seemed to be his way of dealing.

“You’re still here. Huh.”, Mr. Stark slowly mumbled and Blair gave him a soft smile before she asked him, “Why don’t you put that bottle down?”

“So you can make off with it?”, he scoffed, “Not a chance, missy, this is my whiskey. Get your own.”

“No need.”, she replied, wondering why on Earth she had felt sorry for him. He was a jerk, was he not? So her next question came out a bit more forcefully than she had meant for it to be: “What are you trying to drink away?”

For this he stared at her, unblinking, for a long time. When he then blinked, once, it seemed to her as if a spell had been broken, because he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Sadly, that only made him think of the whiskey, apparently, because he emptied the bottle with one long gulp, then it slipped from his grasp and rolled from his feet to hers, bumping against them gently.

Blair waited for an answer, but when he kept silent, doing nothing but staring at his now empty hands, she sighed and told him: “I’m leaving now.”

Once again she was at the door when he whispered: “Don’t.”

It had just been a whisper, but it had her rooted to the spot with the despair in his voice. When she turned around, he was looking at her, eyes glassy and unfocused as he murmured sadly: “Please, don’t go. I can’t take it, not tonight. I can’t take another one leaving me.”

Another one? She had no idea what he was talking about and so Blair found herself walking to him again, but he just hung his head… sobbing.

She was stunned into absolute silence. Tony Stark, Iron Man, was sitting in front of her, crying like a child.

“Hey…”, she softly said and, for want of a better idea, touched his shoulder, just to show him that she was still there, that he was not alone. Then he looked up again, trying to blink away the tears that had stained his face. He was crying. Blair could not believe it, even though she saw it clear as day.

“I’m here.”, she said, not knowing why, but apparently it had been the right thing, for he sighed heavily and then grabbed her hand, taking in big gulps of breath to calm down again, but his voice sounded even rawer when he told her: “Pepper left me.”

“What?”, Blair gasped before she could stop herself. These news stunned her, honestly, because she had thought the two of them to be next to invincible.

“Don’t be so shocked.”, Mr. Stark mumbled, but still held fast onto her hand, “I’m a jerk and I know it. Was only a matter of time.”

“What…”, Blair began, but could not bring herself to finish her question. With a dark chuckle Mr. Stark released her hand and showed her that he had anticipated her question, because he asked it himself: “What did I do?”

She bit her lip at that, not willing to admit that she had really thought those words, but he just shook his head and said: “I wish it had been something stupid like we had drifted apart or I had cheated on her. Something…normal. No, for me, it had to be extravagant, I had to muck it up in style.”

Blair waited for him and with a sigh, he looked at her, then grumbled: “You know, she could deal with almost getting killed just because she had been with me, she could deal with me being a wreck after New York. What she couldn’t deal with was the biggest muck-up I’ve done so far. And I’d only meant well…”

“Ultron.”, Blair mumbled in sudden realisation and he laughed, but it was a dark, desperate sound, “Yeah. Son of a bitch. And I know that he was kinda my son. What a legacy…”

Saying this, he groped around and muttered: “Where’s the Goddamn whiskey?”

“Gone.”, she told him and when he frowned at her, she added, “And you really shouldn’t drink anymore.”

“I can take it.”, he gruffly objected, but she scoffed, “You, mister, can barely stand, let alone walk.”

“I can…”, he said and stood up, determinedly striding towards the door and failing after half a step, so that Blair had to catch him. Well, one thing her muscles honed from dragging machine parts from here to there were good for, catching drunk guys. And, she thought with a flash of humour, had she been wearing high heels, they would have both crashed to the ground.

“C’mon, you need to sleep this buzz off.”

“Sleep sounds good.”, he nodded and relied heavily on her shoulders for support, “But “sleep with” sounds better.”

“Forget it.”, Blair shot at him, “Firstly, you are much too drunk for that, you can’t even stand, so that thing won’t stand either.”

“Oi! Watch it.”, Mr. Stark complained, but did not dispute her statement, so she continued, “And secondly, I am not Jenna, nor Beverly nor anything like them.”

“Who?”, he asked and Blair sighed, “The two lab-techs.”

Mr. Stark shrugged, which was really awkward as one of his arms was draped around her shoulders, so she added: “The two floozies you’ve been with last night and the night before.”

“Oh…”, he then mumbled, “So those were their names.”

Wow, he did not even remember them for even a day…

“I know you’re not like them, Blair.”, he then said and she almost stumbled. He knew her name? Wow again.

“Where’s your quarters?”, she asked and Mr. Stark giggled, but she added with an exasperated sigh, “No, I’m not asking because I’d want in your bed, I’m asking because someone needs to bring you to your bed. And stay out of it myself. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”, he replied, but then stumbled and she had to lean him against the wall as she could hold him upright, but not carry him.

“I can’t walk that far…”, he whined, “Gosh, I am too drunk to walk.”

“Told ya.”, Blair quipped and he honestly smiled at that, but she sighed, knowing that she had to get him to bed somehow, “Okay, you wait here, don’t move, please. I’m gonna go get someone to carry you, Vision maybe or Captain Rogers.”

“No!”, he sharply said, making her wince, then he continued a bit softer, “No. If you get one of those two, I’ll never hear the end of it. ‘Specially Cap is never gonna let me live that down.”

“So what do you suggest?”, Blair asked, “I can’t carry you to your rooms.”

“Yours are just around the corner, right?”, he asked and she frowned once again. Why on Earth did he know that?

“I don’t know…”, Blair mumbled and he laughed, “What, you don’t know where your room is?”

“I don’t know whether you should be in there, with me, in that state…”, she explained and he said, “Look at me. I am drunk off my ass. I’ll just pass out and snore the night away. If you don’t get me to a bed soon, I’ll do it in the hallway. Only reason why I haven’t yet is that Cap would probably be the one to find me and you know how that would play out.”

Not too well for him, this much she knew, Blair was just not sure if it would not also serve as some kind of wake-up-call, a well deserved and well needed one.

“C’mon, Blair.”, he then whined, “I’ll be good, well-mannered. I was well raised.”

“And then, somehow, somewhere, something went terribly wrong.”, she mumbled under her breath, but it made him chuckle. Giving in, Blair put his arm around her shoulders again and together they stumbled the short way to her room. She was not fine with this, but she had come too far to kick him out now.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”, Mr. Stark said and she scoffed with a lopsided grin, “You’ve only been here about seven seconds. That would have been a new record even for you.”

He grinned and she had to admit, he could be fun… if he was not trying to get into someone’s pants.

“Here, you can have the couch.”, Blair offered and began to clear it off the bowl she had eaten her popcorn from the night before and some clothes, but just when she bent down again for a stray sock, she felt hands on her hips and Mr. Stark asked her, “Why can’t we have the bed?”

She had known it was a bad idea.

“You are drunk.”, she slowly, clearly told him, like talking to someone hard of hearing, “You should rest, sleep this off.”

“Hmm…maybe.”, he countered and when she turned around, he leaned closer. He really was drunk. Surprising that he was still able to carry on a conversation, really.

“You are drunk.”, Blair repeated and shoved his hands away, but he put them right back onto her hips again. Now she was getting angry: “No, stop this.”

But he did not. By then, Blair was getting desperate and, admittedly, also frightened, so she swatted his hands away: “No, stop. Bad. Bad Tony!”

He giggled at it, but when he leaned closer, presumably to kiss her, but his aim was way off and he would have ended kissing someone behind her, she used his momentum against him and manoeuvred him onto the couch, where he flopped down and was instantly asleep.

“Bad Tony.”, she mumbled again, but then took pity and removed his shoes. Also so he would not dirty her couch.

Then he lay there, dead like a stone, only his loud snoring indicated he was very much alive.

With an exasperated sigh, Blair knew that she would not sleep well tonight, but she strangely found it hard to be angry at Mr. Stark. Sure, his way of dealing with his pain was wrong, but he was in a lot of pain and felt alone, had no one to turn to, so he turned to Jim Beam and Jack Daniels. Or whatever the fancy whiskey was called.

Blair got a blanket for him, tucked him in and then got ready for bed herself, all the while thinking about Mr. Stark’s situation.

After having locked her bedroom door, just to be sure, she laid down and came to the conclusion that she had to talk to him in the morning. It would be the right thing to do, but hard as heck.

When she woke up to her alarm, this day set an hour early, she first got dressed, then went down to the kitchen and got a healthy breakfast and coffee for both herself and Mr. Stark, hoping that no one would see her with breakfast for two and grateful that Captain Rogers had already made coffee. God alone knew when that man got up in the morning.

Thus equipped with breakfast, she walked back to her room where she had left Mr. Stark lying on the couch exactly like he had fallen asleep last night and reeking of alcohol. He did not stir when she entered the room and it took her some very persuasive shakes of his shoulder to get him to slowly open his eyes.

“Ugh…”, he then grumbled and Blair found herself chuckling, “Here’s some coffee, water and an aspirin. I also brought breakfast.”

“Wow…”, Mr. Stark then muttered as he slowly, very slowly and deliberately sat up, then he grinned, “Where’ve you been all my life?”

“Busy staying away from flirts like you.”, she countered and he frowned, but Blair blocked his question before he asked it, “Eat, to get your strength up and to wake up. Then we talk.”

“Sounds threatening.”, he mumbled, but she refrained from commenting. Instead Blair started her breakfast and they ate in silence, but she clearly felt the expectant and insecure glances he threw her way, but still she did not say anything.

Only when Mr. Stark leaned back and had also finished his coffee and the aspirin, she looked at him, waiting for a thank you or anything of the sort, but knowing she would not receive it. Then, with a sigh, Blair prepared herself for what she was about to tell him.

“Think about it.”, she then slowly said, “What you told me last night, think about the reason.”

“What?”, he scoffed, so Blair explained, “Think about why Ms. Potts left you.”

He grumbled and looked away, but Blair insisted: “I know you feel mistreated and you’re in pain, but think about…”

“No!”, he shouted, “She left me, okay? She has to think about reasons, not me.”

“And that’s where you’ve got it wrong, all wrong.”, Blair slowly said and he glared daggers at her, but still she continued, “She had her reasons, had made up her mind or otherwise she would not have taken any action at all, this much I know about Ms. Potts. But what made her think that way, that’s what you have to ask yourself.”

“No, I don’t.”, Tony snapped, “She left, told me she didn’t wanna see me again. Yeah, she’s still managing the company, but she doesn’t even speak to me.”

“Ever thought that she might be in pain, too?”, Blair offered a possible explanation, but it only served to deepen his frown, “She left me. She isn’t entitled to pain.”

“Of course she is.”, Blair said, “She’s spent years with you, she cares about you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”, Mr. Stark countered and Blair did not argue, because she did not really know them both. Form what she did know, she was absolutely sure that Ms. Potts did very much care about him, but arguing now would not do any good.

So she got started on her next point: “And once you’ve thought about this, ask yourself what it is you’re doing right now.”

“What?”, he asked again, now clearly angry as he glared at her, but Blair did not stop, “She left you and it was painful. What did you do then? You started drinking, sleeping around, slacking off at work. You care more about the cup-size of an employee than her work. And work has suffered from that. I bet others have noticed. Do you want that?”

His fists were clenched to tight balls, the colour drained from his knuckles, but still Blair was determined to finish the little speech she had prepared before falling asleep last night: “Do you want to be broken by her leaving you? Or do you want to come out of it a better man, a man who has learned more about himself and the people around him, not prone to the same mistakes he had made before? It’s your choice. Yours alone.”

“If you say yourself it ain’t your business…”, Mr. Stark snarled at her, “…then stay the hell outta it.”

With that he got up and stormed out.

Blair exhaled slowly, then closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She would probably receive the pink slip tomorrow for what she had just done… or maybe, just maybe he would get his act together again. She did not know, but whatever the outcome, she thought that she had been obliged to at least try.

While she gathered the dishes, she made a mental list of alternative jobs she could pursue if she really was fired, then she made her way to the lab and got to work. But she found it hard to concentrate and when she checked her emails to distract herself, one made her eyebrows jump up. Ms. Potts had answered to her request about having someone check in on Mr. Stark. The text, however, surprised her a bit:

“Dear Miss Elliot, I have forwarded your concern to our Company Medical Officer, his contact information is enclosed. Please direct any further correspondence to him.”

That was it. Yes, the contact information was there alright, but the text told her something in connection with what she now knew about Ms. Potts’ and Mr. Stark’s separation. She still cared about him as she had called the CMO in, but she did not want to deal with anything regarding Mr. Stark herself, because… she did not want to see him out of disgust or because it was too painful?

Blair could not be sure, but she opted for the second option. Thinking about it, she was sure. But it did not take the edge off her concern.

The entire day, she did not see Mr. Stark and when enquiring about his whereabouts, she only learned that he had retreated to his quarters and did not want to be disturbed. A cynical voice in the back of her mind said that he was cooling off and sleeping off yesterday’s intoxication, but she was still concerned. And a wee bit afraid that he might just be sitting up there wording her written notice as spitefully as possible. She could see him do that.

But worrying was no use, so she kept working, got lunch, worked, got dinner and then after some more work went to bed. The whole day had been entirely unproductive, but she had tried, yet concern had made her ineffective. And still she did not know more.

So she was terribly uneasy the next morning, could barely hold her breakfast apple down, let alone eat something else, and her concentration was even worse than the day before.

It did not help that Beverly and Jenna were chatting away, as per usual. Blair was seriously debating with herself whether she should go for lunch early, just to get away from them, when the door to the lab was opened. Curious and utterly grateful for the distraction Blair stretched a bit to see the new visitor, but then she was quickly hiding. It was Mr. Stark.

The two lab-techs greeted him in a high-pitched voice that seemed to Blair like a headache knocking on the door to come in, but she could not help it, she had to look, had to know whether her speech two days before had had any effect. Because so far, she had not been fired.

When she peeked out from behind her equipment, she saw Mr. Stark talk to the two and she also noticed the two cups of coffee. Two, again, only for the two floozies.

She felt bad for thinking that, but then she saw that he also had pastries with him and now she was really angry. No, she was not, she was mostly disappointed, because apparently all her talk had not had any effect whatsoever. She counted herself lucky for not having been kicked to the curb yet.

With a sigh of defeat, Blair returned to her work, setting up three computers in parallel, one of them for Captain Rogers. At least he had asked nicely for that extra bit of work and had promised to make her dinner some time. At least something…

“Hey there.”, a voice next to her startled Blair so fiercely she almost knocked a keyboard off the desk. She even forgot about setting it straight again when she saw Mr. Stark standing there.

Here it comes, she thought and tried to brace herself for all the spite he could muster for firing her. She was just about to close her eyes to get it over with when he said: “Hope you like your coffee with caramel and milk, Vision mentioned something. And is a cinnamon roll okay? I love those things. But there’s also a brownie…what?”

He stopped himself when he had obviously taken notice of Blair’s utterly surprised face. Nothing he could have done would have surprised her more than that, even if he had waltzed in here wearing a pink suit and singing “It’s raining Men” it had not taken her that much by surprise as this had.

“The coffee’s…for me?”, Blair asked and he nodded with a smile, “And the cinnamon roll or the brownie, whatever you prefer.”

“T-thanks…”, she stammered, making him grin, “So, what’ll it be, cinnamon or brownie?”

“The brownie, please.”, Blair mumbled, still disbelieving, waiting for Jenna and Beverly to jump out from behind her equipment and yell “April Fool’s!” or something like that. But it was not the right day…

“And the coffee, caramel or black?”, Mr. Stark asked her, barely cutting through the haze her disbelief had put over her mind like a dome cutting it off, but she slowly mumbled, “Caramel, Vision’s right about that.”

“Whew, good I asked him.”, Mr. Stark joked and put both the coffee and the brownie in front of her, then sat down next to her with the cinnamon roll and his coffee, nibbling away at his snack, glancing at her. Blair was still uneasy and only slowly tried the coffee, for a moment half expecting it to be motor oil instead. But it was not, it was truly coffee and with a lot of caramel, just as she liked it. Astonishing.

Still not sure what exactly was going on, Blair kept throwing glances in Mr. Stark’s direction until he chuckled and then turned towards her, saying: “I’m sorry.”

She gave a violent start in her chair, almost fell off, making him grin, then grumble: “And no, I won’t say it again, you heard me. It’s just… I thought about what you said to me and came to the conclusion that you’re right. Curious, innit?”

“Well…”, Blair began, but he cut her off with a soft smile and continued, “You were right. And that’s why I decided to stop all that self-destructive nonsense. I didn’t see it for what it was before, but you did. So in this regard, you’re the genius between the two of us.”

Blair found herself smirking as he could not give a compliment without turning it around again and complementing himself along with the other person, but, she guessed, that was also part of his charm. And that he had in abundance.

“So… I thought about making an exception and apologising.”, Mr. Stark told her, but then added with playful harshness, “But that’s just once, don’t expect that ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”, she joked and he gave her a smile, but then added, “I thought about all the things I’ve done to you and figured coffee is the least I could do. Followed by actually listening to the ideas you and the lab-techs give me.”

Blair could not help it, she scoffed at this and he frowned: “Oi, I’m serious. I’ll take a serious look, for real!”

“Alright, Mr. Stark, whatever you say.”, Blair mumbled, sipping her coffee.

“Tony.”, he merely said, “Call me Tony.”

She blinked at him and, no surprise, he flashed her a grin as he said: “After everything you’ve chucked at me that morning, you just might as well go by my first name.”

“Okay…”, Blair drawled and a tad more serious, Tony added, “I admit I’ve mostly looked at their cup-sizes before, but now I’ll look at their ideas, their work.”

“Be my guest.”, Blair told him with a grimace, “But don’t blame me for what they’re doing, I just happen to be in the same room.”

“What do you mean?”, Tony asked and Blair shrugged, “Look at their data and see for yourself.”

With a frown, Tony finished his coffee, then called over to the two techs working in the lab: “Show me some of the data you got while I was away yesterday.”

“Good luck…”, Blair mumbled to herself while entering a few commands for the PCs, because she knew that neither Jenna nor Beverly had worked even one minute yesterday. And Tony was probably about to find out, if he really did as he had said and looked.

The two lab-techs were running through the lab like headless chickens and Blair smugly grinned to herself. She also felt bad for it, but she so hoped that Tony would for once really see their lack of effort and results. Jenna was the first to come over with a data pad in her hand, the nails on her finger tips much too long to be working at all and they were glittering on top of it. She handed the tablet over to Tony and sat down on the edge of the desk, shoving a keyboard aside, for which Blair glared at her, but Jenna ignored her as she was much too busy adjusting her cleavage so Tony would get a view almost down to her navel.

But he was not looking at her, he was studying the displayed data. He really was!

Blair could scarcely believe it and even though she did not mean to pry, she had to glance in their direction, had to see how that would play out.

“What’s that?”, Tony asked and Jena almost fell off the desk at his harsh tone, “Huh?”

“Tell me what this is.”, he demanded and then harshly nodded aside, “And get off the desk, your messing up the arrangement with the keyboards.”

Jenna was stuttering, but had Blair been required to speak, she would also have had her difficulties with getting even one coherent word out. Tony was defending her, against Jenna? What?!

“This is…the measurement from yesterday…”, Jenna began, but Tony scoffed, “One measurement with the spectrometer? Hell, any trained monkey can do fifty a day.”

He then flicked through the data of the last week and mumbled under his breath: “Rubbish, obviously a false measurement, that day it didn’t work…and you measured your sample regardless. Are you that incompetent or trying to make me mad?”

“But…”, she mumbled, to no avail, as Tony dismissed her with a jerk of his hand and muttered, “If the other’s data is anywhere near as bad…”

Beverly timidly made her way up to him and Blair almost felt bad for them both. She should not, this was what she had been waiting for, but still she found herself pitying Beverly as she handed the pad over with a shaking hand.

“Wow…”, Tony then mumbled and gave the tablet back, “That’s even worse. Go, both of you, get outta my sight.”

The two of them scampered off, for once not chatting away as they were too stunned, apparently. When they reached the door, Tony called after them: “And hey! You’re both fired.”

At this they gasped, but so did Blair, really unhappy that she had reacted exactly as they had, but she still did not believe her ears. Something else had to be happening… this was too good to be true.

Tony grumbled to himself, then turned to her: “Why did you never tell me they were so incompetent?”

“You never listened.”, Blair shrugged and he bit his lip, but then nodded, “Guess I didn’t.”

With that he finished his cinnamon roll and faced Blair again with a serious look in his eyes: “Thank you. You showed me that I was wrong, and hey, don’t get cocky, I won’t ever say it again, but I was wrong, you were right. I have to come out of this a better man. I gotta try at least.”

Blair gave him an honest smile and then mumbled: “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, you’ll kick my butt every day and happily at that, huh?”, Tony laughed and she had to grin, but then nodded, “If it helps you, yes, I will.”

“Looking forward to it.”, he told her and, out of some stupid impulse, Blair added, “And thank you. For finally seeing what I have seen in the two of them for a long time now.”

“I really don’t know what took me so damn long…”, Tony grumbled, but Blair smirked, “You were busy.”

“Yeah, getting drunk.”, Tony chuckled darkly, “And… with other things.”

Grinning, she replied: “But not anymore.”

“No.”, he shook his head, but Blair leaned closer to him and repeated sincerely: “Thank you.”

Why she did it, she did not really know, but Blair leaned in and placed a quick peck on Tony’s cheek. Maybe out of gratitude, who knew.

Flustered by her own action, she then turned back towards the three PCs, desperately focusing on them even though they were just loading data.

Tony took her hand and spun her chair around so she was facing him again and with a smile, he asked: “Go out with me.”

“W-what?”, Blair sputtered and he nodded, “You heard me. Go out with me. Please.”

“I…don’t think…”, she slowly shook her head and his smile fell, but Blair finished her sentence, “I don’t… want to be just another notch in your belt or rather your bedpost…”

“Whatever made you think that?”, he asked and the sincere shock in his voice made Blair look up, then she mumbled ashamed, “Yeah, you…probably just wanted to go watch a game, have a beer…”

“No, I meant a date.”, Tony clarified with a grin and when Blair frowned he, took both her hands in his. She even left them there, too astounded to move when he continued: “A real date. Not just a hook-up like it’s been with…about every woman apart from Pepper. A real date, you and me. What do you say?”

“I…”, Blair hesitated, shaking her head half to decline, half to get her thoughts in order.

“Just… give me a chance.”, Tony then asked, “I know how that must sound to you after I wasted two nights with those idiots I just kick outta the lab and drank the third night away, but… give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I am really trying to get better. To… redeem myself.”

She frowned and as if in an afterthought, Tony said: “And I’m not trying to redeem myself just to get into your pants. I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me, because of you. So thank you, Blair.”

She was speechless for a moment, then she mumbled with a hesitant smile: “Okay. Ask me again in a week.”

“A week?”, he gasped, “A whole week?”

“Three days.”, she then conceded with a grin, “And don’t argue.”

“No, ma’am.”, he nodded, then gathered up the empty cups and told her, “Meet me before dinner, then we’ll go over your research, alright?”

“Okay.”, Blair nodded and with another charming smile, Tony left. She, however, found herself stunned. Had that really just happened?

The grin on her lips told her it had. So Blair scoffed to herself, shaking her head and wondering how nagging her boss could have been a good thing. But apparently it had been and for the rest of the day, she was in a really good mood, even going so far as giving Captain Rogers a picture of a Captain America Teddy for his desktop.


End file.
